A Puckleberry Marathon
by Tarafina
Summary: "You had sex, Berry. Really awesome, hot sex… I know, 'coz I heard it! And that wasn't just 'coz I had a glass up against the wall for the first half-hour." PxR


**Title**: A Puckleberry Marathon  
**Category**: Glee  
**Genre**: Romance/Humor/Friendship  
**Ship**: Rachel/Puck, Santana  
**Rating**: Teen  
**Warning(s)**: Coarse Language, Sexual Innuendo  
**Prompt**: (517) Look, we all have our slutty phases. Mine is just forever. - TFLN  
**Word Count**: 1,066  
**Summary**: "You had sex, Berry. Really awesome, _hot _sex… I know, 'coz I _heard _it! And that wasn't just 'coz I had a glass up against the wall for the first half-hour."

**_A Puckleberry Marathon_**  
1/1

Rachel shook her head, staring wide-eyed from her place on the couch. Her hair was in an unnatural state of dishevel and she just _knew _she looked exactly like what she'd done. "I cannot believe I did that," she murmured.

"I think I got it on tape," Santana replied, smirking. "So you _definitely _did it."

Eyes narrowed, she glared at her pseudo-best friend. "You're supposed to be giving me a pep-talk," she cried. "Not… Not making me feel even _worse _about my horrendous actions last night!"

The Latina raised a brow and snorted. "You had sex, Berry. Really awesome, _hot _sex… I know, 'coz I _heard _it! And that wasn't just 'coz I had a glass up against the wall for the first half-hour." She pouted. "My neck started to kink, so I gave that shit up. But legit, you're _loud_, so I didn't even need to." She popped a brow up meaningfully and pointed at her sore neck. "You should massage my neck for the effort. If you were _any _kind of roommate, you'd do me this solid."

Rachel glared back at her until she held her hands up in surrender. "How could you let me act so completely out of character? I-I was entirely out of control and I never should have behaved so ridiculously…" She bit her lip nervously and wrung her hands. "He'll never let me live this down." She shook her head. "He will continue to bring this up for the rest of our lives. How I threw myself at him like some kind of loose… _skank_. Like I was… Like I was _you!_"

"Hey!" Santana scoffed. "Look, we all have our slutty phases." At Rachel's cocked, disbelieving brow, she shrugged. "Mine is just forever."

Throwing herself dramatically back into the couch, she sniffled. "The things I did…" A hand flew to her mouth. "The things I _said_ while in the throes of passion…_ ugh!_"

Impressed, she nodded. "Yeah… I heard some of those…" She grinned proudly. "I didn't know you had it in you, Berry."

"Stop praising me and my loose morals!"

She laughed. "B… You slept with _one _guy… And yeah, it went on for _hours_ and you did some things that you probably never expected to but that you totally liked – and trust me, I _know _you liked it!" Her eyes widened for emphasis. "Thin walls are _thin_," she chuckled. "But whatevs. It wasn't like he was a stranger. Fact, you two've been circling this since like… _junior year! _Maybe even longer."

Rachel chewed her lip. "This is different. I-I had thought then when we finally decided to consummate our sexual tension it would involve a period of dating. Not-Not a cranberry spritzer, a lap dance and a night of debauchery!" she cried woefully.

"Hey, if he's still here, the night's not over… Take him to breakfast." She shrugged. "Date number one."

"Correct me if I'm wrong, but I could have sworn that dating was meant to commence _before_ we engaged in intercourse! For all I know, he now thinks I'm some loose and unbiased hussy who enjoys sex with whoever's willing…" She glared at her roommate. "Again, like _you!_"

"Okay, seriously, he's known you like half your life. I think he knows you better than whatever drama-filled, finger-pointing, false accusation you're making up in your head…" Sitting back on the couch, she rolled her eyes. "He's gonna walk out of there, kiss you, and tell you to calm the fuck down and make him some breakfast. Trust me, I know my shit. And dudes? They _are _my shit."

She crossed her arms over her chest and sighed. "I really don't think—"

"Even if they weren't, I know _him_… Don't forget why he was at last night's party, B. _I _invited him, remember?"

"Well… Yes, but—"

"No buts. I know him. I know how he works and who he wants and trust me… He's wanted up in your berries for _years! _I'm surprised it's taken him this long to get the balls to do something about it." She snorted. "Then again, after last night's performance, maybe the wait was worth it." She wiggled her brows suggestively.

Rachel chewed her lip. "You really think—"

"Watch," she said, smirking.

Just then, the door to Rachel's bedroom opened and out walked a sleepy and rumpled Noah Puckerman, his jeans slung low on his lean waist. He ran a hand over his neatly shaven head and scraped his knuckles over the faint whiskers of his jaw before he walked barefoot across the apartment. He paused, bent low and kissed the top of Rachel's head, lingering to rub his whiskered chin against her hair until she reached back to swat at him. Smirking, he took her hand and held on, dragging his thumb along her knuckles. With a yawn, he said, "You got anything to eat, babe? 'm fuckin' starving…"

She stared up at him, eyes wide and mouth agape.

He grinned back at her affectionately and then rolled his shoulders and sighed. Spotting the girl at the other end of the couch, he nodded to her. "Morning San, you drag any poor unfortunate soul home?"

"Nope. Stayed up and listened to the Puckleberry marathon all night," she replied, winking.

"You're welcome," he returned before squeezing and releasing Rachel's hand to swagger off down the hall, mumbling under his breath about needing to piss.

Santana grinned back at a still shocked Rachel. "See?"

"You may have a point," she admitted, nodding.

"Whatever…" Popping up off the couch, she added, "Just remember… when you get married, I shottied maid of honor." Not waiting for a response, she walked toward the kitchen, laughing as Rachel sputtered after her. She always knew moving to New York and looking Berry up would be interesting, and this was just the beginning of her pay-off. Puck owed her for this; hearing him bitch and whine and complain about missing Rachel had worked her last nerve until she finally forced them to get their act together. Maid of honor was the first step, having them name their future daughter after her was the next. There might be a middle point where she talked them into letting her join in and have her wicked way with them, but she knew Rachel was gonna need some convincing. After everything she heard the night before, it was totally worth it.

[**End.**]


End file.
